


Blowin' in the Wind

by KylaraIngress



Category: The Lone Gunmen (TV), The X-Files
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, POV First Person, PWP, mid-relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KylaraIngress/pseuds/KylaraIngress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frohike gives Byers an example of 'sitting back and doing nothing'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowin' in the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Written in September 2003, and publishing as part of "Throwback Thursdays". Prequel to [The Games We Play](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3214781=), and is a take on the infamous line in my "The Games We Play", where Fro mentions, 'well, I guess Langly was pretty surprised when he walked in on me givin' Byers a blow job on the layout table'. 
> 
> It was a chance comment by my SO regarding pornos that caused me to finally come up with the basic plot of this story (don't ask ). I felt since it, too, was a mid-relationship story, it would fit in nicely as the prequel to my other mid-relationship story, so . . . . (BTW, for anyone interested: I've got the basic idea and title for the 'genesis' storyline for this series – don't have a clue if it'll be done, but it's there.)

"So, what'd'ya think of the movie last night?" I looked over at Byers, and as expected he was blushing a furious red. We'd been 'more than friends' for a few months now, but due to a number of issues on both our sides we were taking it excruciatingly slow ever since that first feverish make-out session. But last night I dropped my guard even further and brought out one of my prize porn tapes, the first gay porno I had ever bought: _Bare_ , a takeoff (in more ways than one) of the musical _Hair_ ("The Fates of Fisting" being a particularly interesting song).

"Um," he said, looking around at our surroundings, as if he'd find the answer there, "it was . . . interesting," he finished, going back to working on the layout. 

I gave a bit of a chuckle – for Byers, that was sayin' a lot. "Have you ever seen a porno before, gay or straight?" I asked as I perused yet another search engine's results.

"Frohike!" he chastised, once again looking around furiously.

This time, I looked around, too. Heck, maybe there was something I wasn't noticing. "Langly's still out, you know," I said as I realized what he was doin'. 

"But he could come home any minute now," he said.

"So, if that happens, we'll change the subject," I replied with a grin. We had been keeping this 'development' to ourselves, not because we were ashamed or nothin', but because even we weren't quite sure what we were doin'. Didn't want to get Langly upset or excited (whatever the case may be) if it all turned out to be sexual 'whistling in the dark', so to speak.

"I just . . . I've never been a big fan of pornography," he said quietly, as if afraid this would lower him in my expectations. If anything, it raised him – takes a brave man to admit that. "I have no problem with it as an industry, or if others want to see it, but . . . it just . . . it doesn't do anything for me."

"Oh?" I asked, curious. I knew he had been squirmin' about last night, but I had figured it was because of the embarrassment factor. "Y'know, that's why I like pornos," I continued with a grin. "You can just sit back and let them do all the work."

Byers blushed even further, and mumbled something as he focused even more on the layout.

"What was that?" I asked, finally giving up on working on my research.

"I said that's what I don't get," he said, still soft, but daring in a way as well. He looked up and I saw a gleam in his eyes, the gleam of challenge. "I mean, sex is sex because of the intimacy of it, right?"

I couldn't help it. I stood up and walked over to him, grinning. "Pornos are not about sex, Byers – they're about fucking."

He blushed even more (didn't think it was possible, but . . .) and said, "But I don't see the appeal of just sitting back and letting someone else do all the work."

"Oh?" I asked, letting my eyes travel down his side. He turned in the seat to face me, and bravely answered, "No, I don't. 

I reached out my hand, rustling his beard, nonverbally looking for clues that I was overstepping my bounds. When he closed his eyes and sighed, I knew it was okay. So, I continued the hand to around the back of his neck, tickling that area where his hair ended, and brought him into a kiss. Meanwhile, my other hand had started undoing his pants. For this challenge, that was the only piece of clothing I'd need to worry about.

As soon as I felt the pants open, I broke the kiss, and in a deep growl, I commanded, "No helping, now," and slithered down his body.

As I reached his waist, I lifted him slightly to get his pants down, and sat him up on the layout table. I knew this was going to have to be a quick one – Byers wasn't exactly the type to be into public displays, after all, and while we were in the safety of our own place, the threat of Langly's imminent return made the whole thing slightly dangerous. I couldn't help but wonder if that's why he wanted to do it.

I moved my hands to his hips, sending up a secret 'thank you' that Byers was a boxers man, and let out . . . the one-eyed wonder-beast. It wasn't the first time I had seen it – when three guys live by themselves, sharing a bathroom, it's almost inevitable. We've all seen each other's willies, and for me, who had always liked playin' on both sides of the street, I had taken more than my share of ganders at both Byers's and Langly's. But this was the first time I had really looked at his since we had become 'more than friends' (after all, now he was able to realize those sideways glances meant more than just casual interest).

What could I say . . . ? It was one fine lookin' cock. Sleek, it was thin in a good way – like a racing car, knowing the ways of physics in a way man never will. Without much preamble, I brought my mouth down on it.

A gasping groan escaped Byers's lips, and I grinned as I continued going down on him. His hands started coming forward, ready to caress my shoulders, and so I stopped. "Uh-uh," I said, looking up at him maliciously, "you have to just sit back and let me do all the work."

Giving a mock scowl (don't think Byers could ever give a real one), he started to say something when I stopped him by giving a long lick along the top of his cock.

I let my hands wander up and down, playing with his boxer shorts, slipping in and out. While my left was busy underneath, playing with the edge at his thigh, the other went up and over, grasping at what it could find there. By this point, Byers was using all of his willpower to keep his hands on the edge of the layout table, knuckles whitening under the tension. I continued to suck, and my right hand finally figured out a way around the fabric to catch and clutch his balls.

Byers moaned and cried, bucking at the torture by this point, and I knew he was gettin' close. I paused a moment to look up at him: his eyes were clenched tight, his upper lip biting his lower in an attempt to stifle the sounds, and he looked almost hedonistic. I focused once again on my task, and let my right hand stroke the underbelly of the beast. 

And that was that: with a staccato grunt, Byers came. I let him finish, and spit out what I had into the nearby trashcan – it was a good bet he was negative, but we both didn't want to risk it.

"That . . . was . . ." Byers tried saying.

"Oh, my GOD!" The sound of Langly's voice in extreme irritation broke any kind of mood we had going. 

I turned around and saw him standing at the edge of the area bordered by our equipment, his hands in front of his face, trying to block his view.

"Langly!" I heard Byers squeak, and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him desperately trying to clean himself up. 

"Did you have to be doin' THAT?" he cried, looking away. "I mean, ew, on the LAYOUT table? Jeez!"

"Uh . . ." I said, speechless for a change.

"I mean, now every time I go to work there – oh, my GOD! I'll have to see . . . THAT. EW!"

"Langly," I started in, surprised at his disgusted reaction, "Byers and I . . . ."

"Oh, shove it, shorty," he said. "I've known about you two for a while now, but didja have to bring it to the layout table? Ah, man – there's not enough Windex in the world!"

"Wh . . . what?" I finally stuttered. "You've . . . known?"

"Hard not to, with you two makin' googlie eyes at each other," he sneered. "But it's like comin' in on your PARENTS, man. I mean, you know they had to have done the horizontal mamba at least once to produce you, but you don't want to THINK about it. Jesus! And now every time I go to work. Ah, man," he grumbled again.

"Uh, Langly," Byers started this time. 

"Oh, don't worry," he said. "I'll figure out something – that's what I've been doin' so far. Maybe this is just what we need to get a new layout table?" he asked with a gleam in his eye – he'd been wantin' a new one for a while now. 

"We'll see," Byers said, which both Langly and I knew meant that if we continued pestering him, he'd crumble in the next week.

"Just . . . keep it in your rooms from now on, 'kay?" he asked with what I could almost identify as a smile, then huffed away to his.

"That went . . . well," I said, then started chuckling. 

"Parents? He thinks of us as his parents?" Byers asked, catching the humor.

"I guess that makes you mother, since I'm nowhere near as graceful as you," I joked. 

"Just don't get me pregnant," he said. 

"So," I started, "you were about to tell me how wonderful I was?"

He grinned, still in a humorous mood, and said, "Well, of course, 'father'. But I still don't quite see the lure of not doing anything to help – it took all I had to not touch you."

"Well, maybe next time, we'll need handcuffs," I growled.

"I heard that!" Langly shouted from the other room. "Man, HANDCUFFS?"

I briefly wondered why he was still listenin', why he wasn't already hidin' in his room with the headphones on, desperately trying to get the visual of us out of his head. So, with a smirk, I added, "I guess I shouldn't even bring up the porn."

"Aw, MAN, you TAPED it?" 

I gave a smile – things were definitely going to be fun now.

**The End – 9/25/03**

 


End file.
